


Chicken Soup for the Symbiote Soul

by longwhitecoats



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Other, Oviposition, Sickfic, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 14:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longwhitecoats/pseuds/longwhitecoats
Summary: Eddie has the flu. Venom knows what will make Eddie feel better.





	Chicken Soup for the Symbiote Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [track_04](https://archiveofourown.org/users/track_04/gifts).



Eddie dragged himself back through the door with the last remaining boxes of tissues in the corner store, all six of them, downed an entire bottle of NyQuil because who the fuck knew how much shit it took to knock a symbiote out, and passed out immediately on the couch. He woke to the sensation of Venom watching him. Specifically, a Venom-face that manifested about two inches from his own face, staring at him intensely. He wasn’t sure whose drool was on the floor. If it was drool.

EDDIE. YOUR BODY IS MALFUNCTIONING.

“Oh, what, you’re laying into me for being sick? When you produce this level of ooze, it’s Tuesday.” He wiped his mouth and sat up. The face followed him. He shrugged defensively. “ _What?_ ”

YOU ARE SICK, EDDIE. YOU HAVE BECOME A WEAK VESSEL.

A cold chill crept over Eddie that had nothing to do with the flu. “Yeah?”

WE HAVE BEEN WATCHING YOUR MOVIES WHILE YOU SLEEP.

The non sequitur didn’t lessen Eddie’s panic. Who the fuck knew what a symbiote might do with a vessel it thought had become weak. “Yeah? I been meaning to get rid of some of those. _Sixteen Candles_ is overrated.”

WE CAN BE A GOOD BOYFRIEND FOR YOU, EDDIE. WE WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU WHILE YOU ARE SICK. The face began to diminish.

“Oh,” Eddie said. “Uh. That’s cool, but I already went to the store and stuff, so...” Eddie gasped, overwhelmed by the familiar but always intense sensation of Venom entering him again. Venom was right. He had become weak. Sensitive. “Really, I don’t know what you had in mind, but you don’t need to do anything.”

But Venom didn’t say anything. Instead, Eddie felt something... squirmy... happening inside of him. His head was still foggy, so it was hard to think. It didn’t feel like it usually did when Venom got ready to penetrate him, but something wet was definitely going on in his ass.

“Uh, buddy?” Eddie panted. “Wanna tell me what’s goin on down there?”

EGGS, Venom said.

All the blood seemed to drain from Eddie’s body. “Did—did you fucking say _eggs?!_ What, are you laying some fucking alien eggs in me or some shit? Wait—when you say movies, you weren’t watching _Prometheus_ , right? I haven’t actually got around to—aaaaghghhh.” Venom didn’t say anything, but Eddie thought he heard a soft humming sound as Venom slid a fat black tentacle firmly up Eddie’s ass, where it pulsated and rippled against him.

“Oh, fuck.” Eddie flung his arms out to either side along the top of the sofa, trying to find purchase, even though he had learned long ago that his instincts were useless: he couldn’t get away, because Venom was inside him, was _part of him_. Venom could fuck him however, whenever.

Eddie loved it. He fucking loved it every fucking time.

“Buddy, I don’t know about this,” Eddie said, as Venom began to wrap soft tentacles around his wrists, stilling him, calming him.

THESE ARE GOOD EGGS, EDDIE. WE WILL PROVIDE YOU WITH GOOD EGGS.

“Your idea of what constitutes good boyfriend material is seriously fucked up, you know that?” Eddie said, and then another tentacle parted his lips and plunged down his throat. He moaned. No blow job he’d ever given was like being throatfucked by Venom. It was thicker, longer, and yet Eddie was completely able to breathe, for who knew what physiological reasons. Between the flu and the NyQuil and the throbbing alien dick inside him, Eddie’s brain had pretty much evaporated.

A GOOD BOYFRIEND MAKES YOU HEALTHY. MAKES YOU STRONG.

Eggs? Eddie thought, and then he felt it, and if he’d been able to scream he’d have screamed his fucking head off, because the tentacle up his ass had just bulged open at one end and shoved something fat and heavy up into him. Oh god, Venom was actually laying fucking _eggs_ inside him, eggs that would hatch into fuck knew what and eat fuck knew what, oh god—

Eddie groaned as loud as he could around the tentacle in his mouth as he felt two more eggs join the first. He hadn’t known he could feel this _full_ , and he wondered if the eggs would be visible from the outside, if his belly would bulge with the weight of them. The tentacles around his wrists tightened; he hadn’t realized he was thrashing.

WE ARE GOOD FOR YOU, EDDIE.

He felt but couldn’t see the gentle black tendrils unzipping his fly, pulling out his dick, which was diamond hard and leaking. All he could think about was the number of eggs in his ass, more and more, harder to count as they increased, and the building tension in his body. Venom was just plain dirty talking him now, calling him LOVE and whispering his name and hissing about the GOOD EGGS, GOOD EGGS, and Eddie suddenly realized that Venom’s egglaying must be the symbiote version of an orgasm, and that Venom had been coming for like ten minutes continuously, and that’s why Eddie felt so fucking good.

Then all at once it felt like the eggs _detonated_ inside him, and Eddie shot out ropes of come across the table and carpet, screaming around Venom’s tentacle dick.

For a moment, the whole world melted into black light and a sensation of molten gold. It was like being turned into hot marshmallow cream. He felt every inch of his body in space, but without any weight, as if he floated in a warm salt sea.

He laid there for a very long time. When gravity at last returned, he smelled the come drying on the carpet and—the salt smell, which apparently was real. And the stove was on. He looked down at his hands, which were holding the handle of a pot and stirring something inside it.

“That was,” he started to say, but he didn’t need to. Venom _knew_.

YESSSSSSS. Venom hissed. WE TOLD YOU. GOOD EGGS.

“But—they’re gone?” Eddie said, cautiously taking a hand from the stove to prod at his stomach and his ass. “What happened?”

EGGS MAKE YOU STRONG.

“So they like—” Eddie made a circling gesture. “Dissolved? Like, you dissolved some of you inside me?” He thought about this. “You used some of your essence to make my body stronger.”

He got no reply except for a distinct sensation that Venom was feeling smug.

“Hey,” Eddie said. “My head feels better. Uh. Thanks.” He looked down at the stove. “So what’s this?”

IN THE MOVIES A GOOD BOYFRIEND ALSO MAKES CHICKEN SOUP.

“Well,” Eddie sighed, “I guess now I know which came first.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta, Pearwaldorf!


End file.
